Squadron Volume Upheaval
by LobsterMobster95
Summary: When the Atmos was young, there existed a world that has since faded  into myth. A world of magic where the terras were protected by the mystic  beings Guardians and Champions. But what happens when the ledgend comes to  life? MC/OC, OC/OC, and others.


Author's Note: Hi everybody, it's nice to be back! This is a collaborative request story with Flair the demon dragon king. I'm really excited to work on it and I hope I can pull it off because I really like the idea and I want to do it justice. And I apologise in advance in the first couple of updates are a little slow-going, I'm in my last couple weeks of school and there's a lot going on (isnt's there always? =( ) Anyway, thanks again to Flair for letting me work on this story and thanks, as always to my sister who proof reads all my stuff for me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Storm Hawks nor have I ever, or will ever in the future own any part of it. That honor belongs to Nerd Corps. And this idea belongs to Flair the demon dragon king.

Well, here's the first chapter, let me know what you think. I love reviews so please don't be shy =)

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><p>Beneath a blood red sky, a pair of violet eyes stared intently down at an aging photograph. Two very different faces gazed back: one stern, cold and unwavering, while the other was frail, unsure and perhaps even frightened.<p>

Pale fingers caressed the dominant face in the picture, wishing that the face existed as more than just ink and paper. But Cyclonis showed no visible signs of longing as she stood alone in her private chamber. Her expression was painted just as coarsely as it was while in the presence of her talons.

The face of her grandmother no longer broke her nerves as it had when she was a child. Her days of cowering behind the shadow of the late queen were over. Now it was Cyclonis who sat upon the throne of Cyclonia, holding the fate of the Atmos in the palm of her hand.

Cyclonis looked away from the photo and glanced down at the locked drawer beneath it. She grimaced at the darkly cast lock and felt her body stiffen slightly at the thought of its contents.

It always took a great deal of effort to stomach the concept of a part of her childhood being similar to those of other Atmosians. Cyclonis is above such beings, yet tormented by the regret stemmed from any and all ties that bind her to those insects that squirm beneath the might of her terra.

And in that drawer lies the only object in Atmos that holds that power over her. A vile, poisonous thing, a affliction that she must undergo, but one that she never dare to attempt to cast away.

Before she'd even realized, Cyclonis had pulled a silver chain with a small jet black key from around her slender neck and over her head. She paused for a moment, the key poised in front of the locked drawer. Every time those tumblers clicked with release, a wave of bitterness and lament was summoned up from the depths of her soul.

"Damn me to the Wastelands," Cyclonis thought before thrusting the key into the lock. "Weak hearted fool," She twisted the key and heard the lock click open, "The Atmos will never fall to someone as pathetic as you." Cyclonis yanked open the drawer in one quick motion, as if she was ripping a bandage.

Her eyes fell upon the lonely object within. There sat the only remaining proof in Atmos that, beneath the evil exterior of Cyclonis, beats the heart of a human girl. A girl who had once been a child, a child with hopes and dreams, who would one day, be forced to grow into the cruel and unforgiving adult world, just like all the others.

No, not like the others. She had done so much more, built an empire, destroyed thousands of souls and stuck fear into thousands more.

Cyclonis could only sigh with exasperation as she looked upon the thing. The small book was bound in worn, gray leather, its pages beginning to yellow at the tips. Upon the cover were words written in an ancient, nearly extinct language that only a few besides Cyclonis herself could translate.

Within its pages lies the very foundation of Cyclonis as a person, not just an empress. The one and only story she was ever told straight from the lips of her grandmother. Full with the captivating tales of a time before sky knights and squadrons existed. A time when the inhabitance of the Atmos knew how to respect and fear great power, never questioning their minute places beneath it.

"Farem del me neitear drosa," Cyclonis whispered aloud, running her hand gently over the worn binding. "Of Guardians and Champions,"

She could never break the hold the story held so demonically over her and within moments Cyclonis was seated at her large stone desk. The front cover open and inviting, urging her to once again decode the foreign language, as only she knew how, just as her grandmother had taught her. Her resolve gave way, and Cyclonis began to read.

_"In the times before time, the endless skies gave birth to a multitude of wonders. Lands of magic and mystery, desire and dreams, vast as the depth of any imagination were untouched by corruption. Terras were not divided by deadly expanses, but rather, were segregated by that which made them unique._

_ Creatures such as the mighty Dragon and the fierce Griffith were the watchful eyes above these magical places. Each bestowing their own gifts upon those who lived under their protection. These were Atmos's first protectors, the true and unsurpassable guardians. Titans who subsisted as symbols of supremacy, watching as life itself began to take shape._

_ Mighty as they were, the Guardians also possessed the wisdom to know that so much power should not support an entire world by just a single thread. So the Guardians chose to each bestow a fraction of their force upon a worthy soul, who would them join them as a vigilant shadow over their respective civilization. These heroes were known as Champions, they inspired the rise of many other warriors to fight by their side, yet always themselves, remaining the greatest of them all._

_ Champions were branded by the mark of their Guardian, with whom they would forever after share an unbreakable bond. Champion and Guardian became two parts of a whole, sharing purpose and power. _

_For just as the Guardians were mystic beings, so were their chosen Champions. Each gaining abilities they'd never before dreamed of; from strength, to alchemy, speed, or sight, the Champions became divine entities alongside the Guardians. _

_There were none who could best the champions; each generation that passed brought new lives that would be chosen by the Guardians. Never faltering in strength or desire, the legacy was continued cycle after cycle. The Atmos was allowed to grow into a place of balance and peace._

_That is, until one fateful day during the seventh month of the sixth cycle of Champions. The day the sky turned the color of ash and rained fire down upon the Atmos. The land shook with all its force and crumbled earth until the terras became isolated from one another. The fire melted the rock to magma and pooled at the feet of the newly carved terras, never cooling and giving birth to demons of fire._

_People of the Atmos fell into the flames along with the land. However, for reasons unknown, the Guardians and their Champions were spared from the wrath of the great cataclysm. They were locked away behind magical seals imprinted upon the lands they once reigned over. _

_Imprisoned and hidden away, the existence of magic within the Atmos began to fade with time until it became mere legend. The Guardians and Champions remain, frozen and waiting for the cycles to begin once again. So that once more, they can claim their rightful place above mortal life._

_The true and undeniable protectors of land and sky, Atmos will always be a world of Guardians and Champions."_

Cyclonis lifted her gaze from the page and felt a flicker of pleasure pass through her at the thought of a world without sky knights. A world where power, such as her own, stood at its rightful place above the weaker populace.

That was why this tale had held her interest so securely over the course of her lifetime. As a child, Cyclonis had dreamt that she was an ancient and powerful champion, holding the dominion of an entire civilization in the palm of her hand.

Her grandmother had chosen this story for a reason, one which had been successfully achieved. It introduced a young Cyclonis to the concept of power, laying the foundation for the future she was destined to inherit. Perhaps the only maternal task the late empress had ever performed had been done for the preservation of her terra.

This idea was almost enough to justify the deplorable attachment Cyclonis had developed to the words. They were not the mythic, nonsensical spews that were told to the other children of the Atmos.

Cyclonis huffed; nothing could ever make this fascination acceptable. She was not a guardian; she was a conqueror and a destroyer. There is no such thing as magic, there is only action. And there was no room in the real world for such childish notions.

Just then there came a swift knocking at the door. Cyclonis hurriedly swept the book off the desk and into an open drawer, slamming it shut.

"Enter," The annoyance in her voice was immediately distinguishable.

The door opened slightly and in walked a skittish looking talon. He approached Cyclonis's desk slowly, a little too slowly for her taste.

With a flick of her wrist Cyclonis had drawn her crystal staff and aimed its point directly at the man's heart.

"State your business, or be gone from my sight." She spat, in no mood to deal with interruptions.

The man collapsed down to one knee, his eyes locked on the floor.

"F-forgive me M-Master," He stuttered. "Th-there is a ma-matter tha-that I-I-"

A bolt of red crystal energy burst dangerously close to the kneeling talon, sending him reeling back in fright. A spot on the floor no more than two inches from where his head had just been was scorched and smoking.

"You are wasting my time! Speak or leave!" The crystal at the end of her staff continued to glow menacingly.

"A message is awaiting your audience my lady." The talon said with added clarity. "It's from general Snipe; he says there's a problem at the dig site."

"What?" Cyclonis asked

She looked at her staff and waved away the nervous talon before heading for her radio. What could those idiots possibly have done to mess this up? She had only instructed them to do a small amount of informational excavation, more as a punishment than a valid assignment. Although, it was Snipe so there was bound to be some kind of shortcoming wherever he was.

Cyclonis snatched up the transmitter and properly adjusted the frequency.

"Snipe!" She barked into the piece, "What's going on?" There was a moment where only static was heard but then a broken voice began to be received.

"What's going on down there!" Cyclonis repeated.

"Master," Sniper's voice sounded ragged and out of breath, "Master we found something. Something you're not going to believe. You're gonna want to get down here."

Cyclonis flipped off the radio without giving a reply. She sighed deeply and brought a hand up to rub her temple.

"Idiots," She breathed, "Every last one of them." She stalked out of the room and headed for the hanger bay.

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><p>Author's Note: Well there you have it, sorry it's a little on the shorter side. So now, if you would be so kind, hit the pretty little review button and make Lobster a very happy girl =) =)=) I'll try to update as soon as I can, school is obnoxious but it'll be over soon at least.<p>

Peace&Love


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